


New Beginnings

by Cornerofmadness



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Found Family, Gen, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Malcolm Bright Gets a Hug, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29055882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/pseuds/Cornerofmadness
Summary: Malcolm has had enough of his school. Maybe it’s time to do what his mother has always wanted him to do: go to boarding school.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Jackie Arroyo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 21





	New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bullied](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/750939) by Lavender Lizards. 



> **Disclaimer:** Not mine, Chris Fedak and Sam Sklaver owns it
> 
> **Notes:** Written for the snowflake 2021 challenge of remixing a fan work in a different medium. Lavender Lizards was kind enough to allow me to use her wonderful (and sad) illustration of school-aged Malcolm. You can find it [ here.](https://twitter.com/LavenderLizards/status/1353548876591067142)

Malcolm sat in the picturesque quad of the private school he should have felt safe in. It was filled with rich kids who were as ugly on the inside as they were pretty on the outside. Vijay sat with him but it seemed more like an obligation than a desire at this point. When had they drifted apart? Probably when his dad got out of jail. Malcolm’s father never would and never _should_.

He fussed with his back pack, worrying at the threads that made up the W on the monogram. Why did Mom have to have it monogramed? It just made it easier to figure out who he was but who didn’t know the truth here at Barnaby Academy? He’d been here long enough. They all knew. He could hear them mocking him. _The Killer’s Kid_. Avery had snarled that at him just before he kicked Malcolm to the ground. _Loser! Loner!_ Those taunts followed him as they beat him down; Roger kicking him in the jaw so hard he thought he lost teeth. Not to let the boys have all the fun, Chelsea blackened his eye with the cheerful cry of _Murder Malcolm can eat it!_

“Ice,” Vijay said as Malcolm started pulling the blue threads off the monogram’s W.

Malcolm sighed and pushed the ice pack to his eye. Pain flared through his head. “You don’t have to sit here, Vijay. It’s not going to do you any good to be seen with me.”

Vijay waved him off. “Like I care about that, Whitly.”

Malcolm scowled, making his face ache more. He wished Vijay wouldn’t call him that. He’d tried to get him to use his first name but it had never worked out. Everyone seemed determined to throw it in his face that he was a Whitly. “You should.”

Vijay harrumphed and got to his feet as a black Le Mans rocketed up to the sideway and screeched to a stop. “Your detective has you now. Might want to lie low tomorrow.” He clapped a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder and shook it gently.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, scooping up his bookbag. He tossed the ice onto the grass. He didn’t want it to drip on Gil’s interior. He dragged toward the car. “Hi Gil.”

Gil said nothing. He tipped Malcolm’s head up and slowly turned his face side to side surveying the damage. “Your principal lied to me. He said it wasn’t so bad.”

“I didn’t want him to make a big deal of it.”

“You don’t get to make that call, kid, and he knows it. Get in the car. I’ll be right back.”

There was no arguing with that tone. Malcolm got in and slipped down so he wasn’t visible through the window at least not easily. Gil would go ballistic on Principal Price since Mom had put him in charge while she was at a charity event with Ainsley in London. Malcolm had begged off the trip, not wanting to miss school. He was staying with the Arroyos. 

All Malcolm wanted was to go there now and just hide from the world. He’d miss school tomorrow. It was a Friday and he had gym then anyhow. He’d end up pantsed or stuffed in a locker or who knew what. He fought to keep the tears from his eyes. He wanted to keep anyone here from seeing that. They would know that they had gotten to him. Malcolm never wanted them to know that. 

Finally, Gil came back and slipped behind the wheel. “I’m going to have to tell your mother,” he said once they pulled away from the school.

“I know.” Malcolm wanted to say I wish you wouldn’t but his mother would be back by Sunday and the bruises wouldn’t be faded by then. They’d be at their worst, most colorful zenith.

“Malcolm…”

“I know what you’re going to say. I should fight back.”

“It doesn’t make you like your father if you do.”

Malcolm sighed. How many times had they had this conversation? He had planned to go see his father this weekend but he wasn’t going looking like this, like a victim. He’d cancel that and deal with the fall out next visit. “Can we not talk about it?”

Gil’s gaze slipped over to him but he said nothing.

“I’m sorry you had to leave work.”

“You’re important, kid. You know I’ll always be there.”

Malcolm nodded, hugging his bookbag close. Gil couldn’t always protect him. He was right. Malcolm should fight back. Vijay agreed. They just didn’t get it, the fear inside him. He feared his own inner darkness, all too aware that it existed inside him. The others didn’t seem to believe him that it was there. Only his father did and he wanted to draw it out. Malcolm might only be sixteen but he knew what his father was trying with him. He was smart enough to avoid that but not smart enough to cut the cord and walk away. He missed the dad he remembered. 

Gil made it bearable, filling the void with kindness and love. Gratitude washed over him when Gil allowed him to sink into a moody silence. Malcolm’s entire consciousness was overwhelmed with the throbbing bruises turning his body into an atlas of pain. Still, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as what whipped around inside his head. How could he be hated so much for what his father had done when he was a child? None of that was his fault. It wasn’t like he had helped his father but as far as the kids were concerned he had. Malcolm had thought long and hard about the decision he’d come to on the drive to the Arroyo homestead. He’d mulled this idea for about two years now and it finally felt like time.

He startled when Gil opened the passenger side door, staring in. He hadn’t realized they’d parked in the drive of the small house. Gil peered at him, worry blatant on his face. “You okay, kid?”

Malcolm shook his head as Gil stepped back to let him out. He leaned into Gil’s one-armed embrace as they walked toward the house. Gil rubbed Malcolm’s back. The door popped open and Jackie spilled out. She captured Malcolm in a ferocious hug.

“You poor thing!” 

Malcolm said nothing, not sure he could trust his voice. Jackie pulled him into the living room, ensconced him on the couch before jetting off into the kitchen. She returned with a cup of coffee and a big bowl of potato chips. His mother rarely allowed junk food, other than his licorice. Gil and Jackie would let him eat any old junk he liked. Jackie had just given him the things he liked best. She had all of that for him and an ice pack too.

“You keep that on your eye. It’s barely open,” she said.

“Thank you.” He put the chips on the coffee table. He’d get to them second. Malcolm sipped his coffee and held the ice pack to his face. “I need to say something but I’m not sure how.”

Jackie sat on the couch next to him, brushing her long dark hair back. Gil took the recliner. “You can tell us anything, sweetie.”

Malcolm took a deep breath, ignoring the pain in his jaw. He dove in the deep end. “I want to leave this school.”

“I think you should,” Gil said without missing a beat.

“Where would you go?”

“Mother has always wanted me to go to Remington. My family started the school so long ago. I didn’t want to go to boarding school.”

Jackie’s face fell. “You’ll be going away.”

He shook his head and switched the ice pack to his jaw. “It’s just in West Chester. I’ll be back on weekends if I want. I need a new start for my senior year. I don’t want to wait until college for that. But that’s the easy part. Mom will throw a party,” he said bitterly.

“Then what’s bothering you?” Gil asked because of course he would. He was a detective. It was hard as hell hiding stuff from Gil.

Malcolm dropped his head back against the couch cushion, sipped some more coffee and then said, “I don’t want to be Malcolm Whitly anymore. I’ve been thinking that for a long time now, maybe years even. I know Mother won’t approve. She’ll be angry.”

Jackie widened her eyes and rested a hand on his arm. Gil sat forward on the chair. “What do you want to be called?”

“Malcolm still, not changing that. I just don’t want to be a Whitly. I just don’t know how to tell Mom that I want to be Malcolm Bright.”

Smiling at him, Jackie patted his wrist. “I like that. It’s a good name for you, sweetie.”

“You’re still too young to legally change your name,” Gil said. “Do you want us to help you talk to your mom?”

He shook his head. “I just need to know you’re in my corner. I don’t want you in the middle of it. She’ll blame you for this if she thinks you’re behind me doing this.”

Gil thinned his lips but didn’t protest. Everyone in the room knew his mother cared about the Arroyos and loved having their help and support after what his father had done but if Malcolm did something she didn’t approve of, she blamed their influence. It wasn’t fair. As far as he was concerned their influence had been nothing but positive. Mom just held him too tightly, wasn’t ready for him to be his own person. She got weepy every time he talked about what colleges he wanted to apply to – as if Harvard wasn’t his first, second and third choice. 

“We’re here for you if it get a little heated,” Gil said.

“I know. It’s appreciated.”

“Always.” Jackie gave his hand a final pat. “You just relax here. I’m going to make dinner, something nice and simple for your stomach.”

Malcolm smiled. “Thanks, Jackie.”

“I have to go back to the office and finish up some paperwork. I shouldn’t be more than a couple hours,” Gil said.

“I’m fine on my own, don’t worry. I have homework to do and later we’ll have to call mom and tell her about this.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell her all about my conversation with your principal,” Gil assured him.

I know.”

Malcolm watched Gil go. He didn’t do his homework or eat his chips. Instead, he curled up on the couch and watched the History channel without really listening. Maybe he should tell mom his plan to change his name while she was still in London but was that fair? She’d be angry and smoldering on the plane ride home. Poor Ainsley, no, that part of the conversation would have to wait. Maybe he’d tell her he was finally happy to go to Remington after avoiding it for so long. No he should wait on that too, tell her both things together so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad and she wouldn’t be as angry. No matter what happened, he was going as Malcolm Bright, not Whitly. He was never going to be a Whitly again.


End file.
